


Easy Steps to Becoming a Fag-Junkie

by LoonyFred



Category: South Park
Genre: Bisexual, Canon Compliant, Early in Canon, Gay, M/M, Underage - Freeform, Weed, cough medicine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:56:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5379341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyFred/pseuds/LoonyFred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A week spent in Hell`s Pass together worked magic and Tweek and Craig leave hospital walls wishing to be each other`s BFFs. Not more than two years later they find themselves boyfriends and real poster children of ideas of love and commitment for the whole town. </p><p>\\How queer kids know they're queer and what challenges they have to face on the way of figuring stuff out. First chapters are about early years and are rooted in canon events. All the smut comes later.//</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hell`s Pass. FAG-o-scopy.

**Chapter 1. Hell`s Pass. FAG-o-scopy.**

**[Tweek]**

I`m eight, in hospital, and God bless Stan, Kyle, Cartman and... well... Kenny. I`m lying in bed, hurting literally everywhere, but at the same time there's this weird warm buzz in my head and in my chest. It's a pleasant buzz, a nice one, sweet even... sort of. The heat in my chest intensifies, and my fingertips get all ticklish whenever I turn my head to the left and look at the boy on the other bed. Craig and I are the only patients in this room, so I do it often, glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He often looks back at me, catches my stupid smile. Most of the time he won't look away and will just stare for a long time, and watch me shake and twitch helplessly under his scrutinizing gaze. OH MY GOD, IT'S JUST TOO MUCH PRESSURE to look him in the eyes, but for some reason I cannot turn away. Craig isn't a very emotional type, his face is usually pretty much expressionless, but when he stares at me, he takes off his 'I don't give a fuck' mask - somehow his face conveys a feeling of being slightly puzzled and trying to figure something out so badly. His brows are up, his mouth slightly open, and sometimes he will bite his lower lip. I don't get why he will look at me like that, as if it's me who puzzles him so. We play this game of stares for a long time before my twitching and shaking gets worse (it always does, because there's just TOO MUCH PRESSURE!) and I turn away or pretend to pass out or fall asleep.

Sometimes, but not very often, though, Craig smiles back. And when he does so, I feel something extraordinary. I forget about the pain and all my worries, my paranoia, the constant state of vigil accompanying me since god knows when - all of it just vanishes while I`m looking at Craig Tucker's smile. For as long as he is smiling at me, I stop twitching and enjoy feeling relieved, happy and safe. I don't know why his smile has such a tremendous healing effect on me, but what I`m sure about is that I`m never going to blow this chance - I`m gonna stay close to Craig Tucker, because he is the coolest guy I know. Fate works mysterious ways, and well, I`m not in the least sorry about this whole fight and being hospitalized. I just hope that by the time they release us we'll have become best friends.

He tells me about his pet guinea pig Stripe. I guess, no one in the class suspects it, but now I know: Craig is actually a very sweet kid. He's not at all violent - so what if he enjoys flipping people off? No, I think that someone who talks with so much care and fondness about their pets, cannot be cruel and harsh. 

Talking to him, I don't really care what's on TV or on the radio. I don't get distracted by my Gameboy. I couldn't fucking believe it that simply talking to Craig Tucker makes my attention span longer and so much more stable. For some reason I feel like I can trust him a lot... like... anything, really. I don't know why, I guess, when you've already beaten the shit out of each other... twice... it's that point where you know more about each other than most people would find comfortable knowing. Like... I can look at Craig and tell where his balls are immediately. That's because I didn't want to hit Tucker in the balls when I was beating the shit out of him. I still find it strange... I was like superpissed at him, yet didn't want to cause that kind of damage... Tough I still think I hurt him more than he did me. I`m sorry about that.

"I'm sorry, Craig", I blurt out instantly. "I'm sorry about the fight."

**[Craig]**

"I`m sorry, too", I reply, glancing at him for a quick moment and then turning away not to give out my feelings. Goddamnit, why am I such a wuss?

I`m eight. I`m in hospital, and I think I might be dying. I panic inside, I`m a total mess, my stomach hurts like hell, so I think this is it. My parents won't let the doctors give me morphine, because, I quote my dad, 'A man can handle a little pain. What, is it better for you to become a worthless junkie and start turning them tricks in a back alley to earn a quick fix?' That's my dad's favorite scary story, and I didn't use to even get it until recently, when I asked Eric Cartman what 'turning tricks' really means, so he explained me the whole thing. Turns out, my dad really likes to motivate me by telling sick horror stories about how one day I can become a junkie or a faggot, which for him is all the same, and then the only way for me to get by meant turning into a male prostitute. Something like that. I`m not quite sure why my dad would enjoy fantasizing about such a future for his son, but I understand why is it that I just need to stay away from drugs and fags, because clearly the two things belong together like bread and peanut butter. 

My stomach is killing me, and technically, it's all Tweek's fault. He dinged me up damn hard. Before the fight I could never imagine what a freaking killing machine he is. I heard that Stan and Kyle fixed some boxing training for him, and Clyde even told me about Tweek having beaten Stan's uncle's friend Ned so bad he coughed blood. I know I should be angry at the kid, but then again, was it really so much of his fault? No, we both bought the lies which those four douchebags fed us. We didn't have to listen to them, did we? We could have always talked to each other and checked whether those damn stories were true in the first place. Instead, we let ourselves be manipulated into a fight, twice! I guess, we both have to blame for our traumas. And those douchebags deserve punishment. Oh, so much!

I`m trying to watch my favorite TV program 'Red Racer' and forget about the pain, but it doesn't help - that's how bad my insides are hurting. I notice Tweek staring at me again - he does it ever so often - smiling for reasons unknown. Somehow his smiles manage to cheer me up, so I turn my head to him and smile back. I`m still hurting bad, but looking Tweek in the eyes gets me distracted from all the pain. I mean, I still know it's there, but it's like I`m not feeling it anymore - as long as this blond boy keeps staring at me just like this, with his big green eyes and a wide smile. I don't know why he finds me so amusing, but I don't really care as long as he keeps my mind away from the suffering.

Time crawls like a fucking snail, slowly, boringly, like we're in detention or something. So we start talking a lot to kill time. We'll also watch TV, but not much, as there are no kids' channels, and most of the everyday shit's just lame. I`m fucking surprised to find out that Tweek is a pretty cool guy. I mean, I've never thought so, cause most of the classmates feel insecure about hanging out with him - because of his syndrome, and because his mood is so unpredictable. But really, once you get to know Tweek, you can't deny that he's great. He's smart, and artistic, and wildly imaginative. You can't possibly think of how much strange but interesting facts are stuffed into his twitchy head. For example how it wouldn't take long for an average python to strangle an eight year old completely to death and like, there's no chance for a person to save themselves unless someone helps them. He says he's seen it in some documentary about deadly snakes. It's because of his ADHD, he says: he will often get bored sick, so he has to intake tons of new information to feel at least close to normal. He can watch almost anything on TV, read any books or newspapers, listen to all kinds of shit on the radio - just for the sake of getting a fresh fix of data.

"I think it's so much more exciting to chat together!" he says, looking at me with this friendly wide smile of his. "Better than any TV, you know?"

His words work fucking magic, as I forget all about my aching stomach and my bruises and scratches. For some unknown fucking reason what Tweek's just said to me somehow increased my pain tolerance levels, so that I stop dreaming about painkillers. The very next moment I decide I wish to be friends with Tweek like... forever.

And when I smile back at him I try to put the wish into my smiling lips and make him notice. 

**[Tweek]**

I wake up a little after noon and find Craig brooding, his face pale, and his mouth curved strangely. He won't even look at me once I say 'Good morning, Craig'. He won't even nod. Nothing. I wonder, if I've done anything to make him like that. Or may be he thinks, he's dying? What if he's hurting like really bad? Shall I call help? Signal the nurse may be?  
"GAH! Craig!" I twitch spastically. "Do you want me to call the nurse?"  
"What?" he stares at me with a startled look. "Why?"  
"Are you OK, man? GAH! Or hurting?"  
He chuckles.  
"I guess, I`m hurting OK".  
I manage to calm down a bit.  
"Are you sure I shouldn't call a nurse?"  
"Yeah. I`m sure... It's just..."

He turns away, his face red. Craig doesn't often show emotion, so he must be ashamed of demonstrating his feelings so openly. I clearly see there's something troubling him, but what? 

"Hey, Tweek", he calls me, "can I tell you something? But you're not supposed to tell anyone about it."

Oh, my god! He wants to tell me a secret! TOO MUCH PRESSURE! What if he tells me something that'll get me in trouble? Something so nasty that I'd have to go tell on him? Aaah! What do I do?

Thinking all of it, I keep staring at him, my eyes wide open, as I gasp for air and twitch. Then again... to promise someone not to tell their secret is a serious commitment. I normally hate obligations and commitments, but this is Craig Tucker desperate to share some personal stuff. Surely, I can't miss such an opportunity.

"GAH! Sure, man", I say, shaking badly. "I won't tell anyone."

He gives out a deep lonely sigh. Still having his gaze fixed on the greenish room wall.  
"The doctor said I've got this procedure scheduled for tomorrow. A test or something. And I worry about failing it. I can't fail it, Tweek, if I do, I'll get in trouble. My father's gonna be crazy angry... "  
"What? GAH! Oh Jesus, what's this test all about?"

I start shaking more, as I imagine I might also be scheduled in for some creepy tests. What if the doctors are going to perform experiments on us? What if they cut us open and steal all the vital organs and sell them at the black donor market? Aaah!

Craig sighs again. 

"It's called fag-o-scopy or something. They're gonna put a huge rubber tube in my mouth and stick it inside to check whether I`m a fag or not."

"DUDE! SICK!"

"I think it was my dad who wanted this test done. He doesn't want a gay son. What if I`m fag after all? What if I am, Tweek? Do you think he's going to put me up for adoption?"

"GAH! Jesus, Craig! You're insane! I`m sure there's no such thing as fag-o-scopy! My parents told me, you have to figure it out all by your-GAH-yourself, if you're gay or straight. Is your dad homophobic?"

"Well, not really. I mean he's totally fine with gays having the same rights and all, but he kind of thinks they're junkies and prostitutes. And he wants me to stay away from this shit."

"Man, your dad's a weirdo." I say, but then I think about my folks and can't help adding "But so is mine. Whose parents are sane in this town, anyway? Right?"

This helps to cheer Craig up a little. And maybe he even believes me that there is no medical test to check whether someone is gay or not. Nevertheless, he asks me if I can keep him company during the procedure and I promise that I would. Another commitment with Craig Tucker, am I crazy? Why do I keep making these promises? Aaah! Too much pressure! Oh, Jesus! Oh, god!

**[Craig]**

Tweek manages to calm me down by saying that there's no such thing as fag-o-scopy. I`m still not a hundred per cent convinced, but don't feel like panicking anymore. We spend half the day discussing our favorite episodes from 'Terrance and Philip', laughing our asses off, until Tweek’s parents come to get him. It turns out that they're releasing him from the hospital right now, while I have to stay for several more days.

I watch Tweek pack his belongings and feel lonely. What am I going to do here for so long without his company? How will I survive the pain and the silence? Damn. What if my procedure hurts like hell? He promised me to be there, didn't he?

"Mom", I hear Tweek's shaky voice, "there isn't a medical test called fag-0-scopy, is there?"  
"Why, yes, there is, pumpkin", she answers, and I start sweating all over. No fucking way... I told him. Shit. Shit!  
"It's when a patient swallows a long rubber tube so that the doctors look at the inside of the..." Mr Tweek started explaining, but I couldn't listen anymore, I was too scared. My bad feeling was right: dad really wanted to make sure I`m not gay. But what if I am? Gosh! What if I am not like everyone? What shall I do?

Mr and Mrs Tweak are already in the hallway, calling for Tweek, but he's still in the room with me, and I see how hard it is for him to leave me in this state. I pretty much know my face doesn't even slightly reflect my thoughts. On the surface, it should be completely emotionless and stoic. I don't know how, but this kid just sees through my facade. 

"I`ll ask my parents to drive me here tomorrow." he suddenly says, "I promised to stay with you, right? What time's the procedure scheduled for?"

"Noon", I reply, trying to sound nonchalantly, as I feel pleasant heated sweetness whirling inside my chest.

"I'll be here", he says confidently and runs outside the room to his parents.

I stay in the big room, alone, with only my panicking soul to keep me company. I don't think I'll be able to sleep well tonight.

**[TWEEK]**

I can't sleep all night, sitting at my computer, trying to research _fag-o-scopy_. I sip on my coffee as I read about _fellatio_ and _prostate stimulation_. JESUS, WHY WOULD SOMEONE DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT? MAN! THIS IS TOO MUCH PRESSURE! There's nothing about fag-o-scopy though. Couldn't my parents have tricked me? May be there isn't such a thing.

But then it dawns on me that I might be spelling the word wrong. So I go ask my parents and they tell me it's _phagoscopy_. I find the word, and it turns out to be a test for alimentary canal, your gullet and stomach. Nothing even remotely connected with being gay. Still, the procedure is disgusting, so I'd better keep my promise and come support my friend. I also need to tell him that he shouldn't be afraid of the results. 

I get up at seven, dress up quickly and run down to the kitchen.  
"Good morning, sweetie" mom says, handing me a mug of freshly brewed black coffee.  
"Morning, mom! Remember you promised to drive me to Hell's Pass?"  
"Sure, pumpkin. But don't you think it's way too early?"  
"What if the main road gets blocked by a snowstorm and we'd have to take a sideway? GAH! I promised Craig I'll be there."  
"Well, ok, honey, we'll leave early, but you should at least have some pancakes, will you?"  
"GAH! Alright, mom!"

I start chewing on my breakfast hastily, shaking at the thought that I might be late for the twelve o'clock procedure. It's simply the most important event of the day for me. Now that I am beginning to be friends with Craig, I just cannot let him down.

"Dude! I've got to tell you something about the procedure!" I scream, dashing into the room, but it turns out that Craig doesn't want to hear a thing. I`m sure he's gonna feel all better once he hears what I have to share, but he refuses so confidently, that I don't dare break his wish. Alright. The procedure might not be connected with being gay, but it's still nasty as fuck, so I've gotta help him. 

The doctor and two nurses come in with two big trays of equipment. There's a small monitor and soft plastic tubes sticking out of it. The doctor chooses one from a number of caps for the tubes and then explains the nature of the procedure to Craig. They tell me I've got to go away, but I can't leave my friend in sure peril. So I clutch on his hand with all my ten fingers and refuse to let go of it. Craig half-turns his head, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. He nods just a little bit, and I understand that I`m doing the right thing.

"Alright, then," the doctor says, "if you wish to watch your friend choking on this tube - here you go".

I almost scream when they start sticking the tube into Craig's throat, how he naturally resists it, how he cringes and gags, but nothing can help him, and I see tears in his eyes. JESUS! IT'S A TORTURE! I try not to twitch, so as not to add to the severity of his ordeal, I just keep squeezing his warm hand, reminding him that he's not alone and I`m here to support him. I like the way his hand feels in mine, and I can't shake off the feeling like it belongs there. I think I wouldn't mind to kind of hold his hand a little longer than necessary.

When it's over, he can't speak for a while, his throat all sore after the procedure. So I just sit there and tell him stories about aliens and underpants gnomes. He can't laugh, but giggles at my jokes and we don't notice how quickly time passes. I'm still holding his hand, and he doesn't seem to mind.

"GAH!" suddenly I remember. "I have to tell you something important, Craig!"

He jerks his gaze up, looking at me curiously, brows up, mouth open. My sudden twitch must've startled him. Well, I can't help being who I am. I tell him what I know about the procedure and that it has nothing to do with sexual orientation and all. 

"Really?" he brightens up in a second. "Are you sure?"  
"Yes, man! Totally! You can relax now, GAH!"

"Tweekie, honey, it's time to go!" my mom looks inside the room. "I`m sure Craig needs some rest now, doesn't he?"

"I've got to go," I say as I stand up from the chair at his bedside. He catches me by my loose sleeve trying to hold me back.  
"Tweek?" he calls. "I'll see you at school, right?"  
"Sure, man. See you soon!"

I rush out of the room, because I don't want to keep mom waiting. I'm really grateful to her that she bothered driving me all the way to see Craig. I don't know why I want to be bestest friends with him, but I`m sure that I`m already on my way to it. God bless Stan, Kyle, Cartman and... well, he's dead now, Kenny McCormick, but God bless his soul, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I just wanted to thank you for reading this fanfic. My idea is to go through some events in canon and show how Tweek and Craig might totally be on their way to becoming canon in 19x06 and how their relationship developped afterwards. Hope you'll enjoy my story!


	2. Mark fucking Cotswolds. Gnomes

**Chapter 2. Mark fucking Cotswolds. Gnomes.**

**[Craig]**

There's a number of reasons why Tweek Tweak's cool. First, he knows stuff and his imagination is crazy wild. He can invent awesome games about spacemen and aliens, fairies, elves and pagan gods, and also evil child-eating monsters. It's real fun to play with Tweek, so pretty soon my best guys, Token and Clyde, start hanging out with us.

Second, Tweek's parents let him have sleepover parties on every day of the week. They seem not to care at all about the marks he gets at school and are only concerned about his physical safety. So as long as we're staying put in his room, they never disturb us and let us watch cartoons or play video games all night, which is super sweet of them.

On top of that, he gets one hell of an allowance, I think his folks give him more than Token gets from his parents, and they're like... super rich. From what I understand about Mr. and Mrs. Tweek, they're in the money, but aren't really into big houses and posh stuff, so they don't own a mansion in a prestigious part of the town. Instead, Tweek gets a nice sum every week, so whenever we want to see a movie or go for a ride in the amusement park, if I'm short of cash, he`ll always help me out. That's not why I hang out with Tweek, though. I just really find him supercool and am proud being his friend.

Clyde and Token kind of like him, too, but at times I feel awkward when I don't know how to explain, that I want to spend some time with Tweek alone. It's a strange wish that I find myself linger on sometimes. Not that I don't enjoy our big company, it's just from time to time it'd be cool if I could have Tweek all to myself, play video games together or watch "Terrance and Philip" or "Red Racer" with him. 

Tweek is freaking professional when it comes to video games. So when I say "play games with Tweek" I mean mostly me playing and him watching, because he's so proficient in any of them, that it's just not fun for him to play anymore. He likes watching me play instead, helping out, cheering me up and giving advice on the way.

**[Tweek]**

Hanging out with Craig and his guys is awesome! Now I`m friends with Token and Clyde, too. They're pretty cool men, and we do lots of exciting stuff together. My folks are all for it, cause they think I need more company to get me cope with my syndrome better. Really though, I need just one person around to help me stop twitching that much. That person is Craig Tucker, and I`m so happy he's my good friend now.

We often sit together in a school bus, I watch him flipping off random strangers out of the bus window.  
"NNNNGHAAAh, look, man" I scream with a sudden twitch, "they can remember your face and sue you later... You'll go to jail! GAH!"  
"Calm down, Tweek, I`m just a kid, they won't arrest me." he chuckles.

There's a new boy in our class today. His name's Mark Cotswolds, and I don't like him at all. In fact, I kinda hate him. I hate the way he talks, hate the way he smiles, I hate his stupid brown hair. But most of all, I hate the way Craig Tucker looks at him all the time. I mean, sure, the guy is actually inside a huge plastic ball! But why does Craig have to stare at him so constantly? Jeez, I`m so pissed off I could kick someone's ass right fucking now. 

"We need to get him out of that thing", Craig says, when we're standing in the middle of the playground watching the misfortunate creature get around in his weird bubble. Man, I thought my parents were fucked up. Seems like they're perfectly sane compared to this poor bastard's folks. I feel sorry for Mark for one swift second, after which I go on hating him for stealing my best friend's attention away.

"I would duct-tape him to the bench over there", I mutter quietly to myself, but Craig hears me and he likes the idea.

"Sweet plan, Tweek!"

So we do it. And it was my idea, so I kinda have to follow through with it. I still don't appreciate Craig being all eager to pick on Mark. Ever since that kid got transferred, all my friends ever talk about is how get back at him for being a smug know-it-all. I wish we could just go play video games or something.

I enjoy watching Craig play video games. He can be very emotional about walkthrough, so I get to see him laugh and frown, and I get to teach him my pro-gamer tricks and secrets, and he's always impressed by what cool a gamer I am. 

But not this time. Today it's all about Mark fucking Cotswolds. Christ, I hate this kid! I fucking hate him!  
"GAAAAH! TOO MUCH PRESSURE!" I scream, pulling out my hair, as I run back into class. Shit. Shit. Why have I got so mad at the new boy? Also, at Craig?

When the guys come back from the playground after recess, they look cheered and full of ideas. Turns out, they're planning to play a special trick on Mark at the dance party with KORN. I can't take it anymore.  
"AAAH! NNNNNGGGGGHHHAAAH! I WANT OUT!" I scream as I hit my head against my desk. "I WANT OUT!"  
I twitch and I hit again.

Dance party with KORN is fucking awesome, why wouldn't the guys leave the stupid homeschool kid alone? Hasn't he gone through enough already?

The class doesn't comment on my tick, just stare at me for five full seconds. I don't fucking care what they're thinking. I am what I am, my folks always tell me, and my ADHD is a part of it.

I look at Craig. He gives me a thumb up. Then flips Mr. Garrison off real quick. 

**[Craig]**

Motherfucking balls, I hate Mark Cotswolds. I can't stand his smugly face. I mean, I kinda like it and am slightly drawn to the kid, which only makes me hate him harder. Tweek's an evil bastard, too, I'm loving his idea about duct-taping the nerdo to a bench. Now repeating the trick with a flagpole should be super awesome. Get ready, Mark, I swear, you'll answer for that perfect shiny hair which I`ll mess up so damn hard...

Tweek is brooding at me. I`m not really sure why. Am I going too far with Cotswolds, maybe? Should I leave him alone? But shit, how can I do that? I mean this daring fucking smile has to go! Can't wait for the concert. It will be awesome. Yeah!

On my way from the bus stop I see Tweek and Wendy slowly heading towards Tweaks' house. They're laughing very loud and don't get to see me for a long time. I suddenly feel lost and redudndant, I wish Tweek would see me. But he's too caught up in the middle of the conversation. I call his name, so they both stop and turn to me.  
"Oh, hi, Craig!" Wendy exclaims.  
"Hey man.' says Tweek.  
I approach them trying to sound completely uninterested when I ask, "What are you guys doing together?"  
"Tweek invited me to watch a movie at his place." Wendy says as if it’s some kind of a habit.

A movie? At his place? Shouldn't Stan Marsh be at his throat for having his girlfriend at his place for movies? I mean... seriously?

"Aren't you Stan's girlfriend?" I blab out. Tweek screams and curses. Wendy just laughs.  
"Why, I am!" she says. "Tweeky and I are just friends."  
"Friends", I echo her last word hoping she's telling the truth. It's kinda odd, feeling this way about a possibility of Wendy and Tweek being... together or something. 

"Wanna come with us, Craig?" Tweek asks. "We're about to watch the new X-Files movie."  
I do. I freaking wanna come, but I hate the idea of Wendy also being there. But she was like here first, so I have no right to complain. I'd better really not come, I decide. Tweek looks down as I refuse his offer. He sighs and mutters, "Well, alright then. See you at the dance tonight". They both leave.

**[Tweek]**

Watching movies with Wendy is fun. I like Wendy. She's smart and imaginative, and best of all, she doesn't treat me like a spaz. She actually sees my paranoid worries as being legit. I wish Craig could come with us still. Wendy is cool and all, but I'd prefer Craig Tucker's company over hers any day. I wonder if the guy knows?

Dude, KORN rock! The dance floor is packed, for a moment it seems like everyone in the hall has a twitch, just like me: they shake and jump and scream, and it feels nice being a part of the crowd for a change. I know I'm supposed to stay alert, that's what my parents always tell me. So I secretly watch Mark and Craig. They're holding hands now, who could have thought? I still wish we'd taped Cotswolds to the freaking pole tho. I cringe, twitch and scream: "GAAAAH! I WANT OUT!"

I decide to go wild dancing. It's KORN so you can rock however you please. I spin like Kyle's dreidel, shaking my head. I wave my hands like I don't give a fuck. I enjoy myself succumbing to the rhythm. I jump, I yell. I feel fucking happy.

I open my eyes just for a moment to see the Cotswolds taking their kids home from the music they must surely find inappropriate for their kids. I see Craig walk along the way with Mark and Rebecca until they leave the building. I wonder if he will come back. So he does. He finds me in the dancing crowd and we rock together and jump wildly, and pretend we're playing invisible guitars and drums. We rock until we're completely drained of stamina.

"Hey!" I say, as we lean onto the wall, trying to catch our breath. "Let's go see the movies tomorrow?"

"That'd be cool, but I'm out of cash."

"That's alight. I`ll buy you a ticket".

"Yeah?"

"Sure, man".

**[Craig]**

I pick up my phone and hear Tweek's brain damaging shriek.  
"CRAIG? WANNA HANG OUT?"  
"What?" I moan. I`m sleepy. Had it been Token calling me in the middle of a goddamn night, or Clyde, I'd have already told them to go fuck themselves, but this is different. I'd hate to tell Tweek to go fuck himself. It's still a fucking mystery to me, but I accept it with no questions, it's just the way it is: I don't feel like being mean to Tweek.

"Gaaaah! Hang out with me!" he screams into the phone. "I can't sleep, do you want to come over? I'll show you some cool stuff!"

"What, like... you mean NOW?" I can't believe it. I can't do it, my parents are going to kill me if they know. 

I want go so bad though, so it takes me less than a minute to get dressed. I leave a quick note on the kitchen counter for my parents. I know that I'm totally gonna get grounded when they find out I slipped away at 2 a.m., but I feel like if I`m honest with my folks, they won't give me their worst punishment - triple chores. 

Tweek could never sneak out to meet me at my place like this - he'd be too damn scared of serial killers, Satan worshipers, and ghouls. His place isn't far down the same street. It's a quick run for me. I see Tweek watch the street at the front door.  
"I was watching out for alien ships", he says. "They could've abducted you!"  
"I`m fine though. What did you want to show me?"

Tweek's looking me right in the eyes. For a couple moments he is completely still, no spasms, not tremor, just one direct examining look.  
"We'll have to wait in my room until 3.30" he finally says, stepping inside so that I can come in, too. 

We kill time by playing chess, god, I swear, I'll never play chess with Tweek again. This is the game where his twitches are distracting as fuck. He keeps screaming "I want OUT!" and bumping his head against the wall. Somehow he still manages to win the game. 

"Never again..." I start, but Tweek puts his index finger at his lips and shushes me.  
"Here they come", he says, crawling under his blanket and signaling me that I have to take cover, too. "Listen!"  
"Who comes?", I ask, as I take my place near him, and Tweek covers us both.  
"The gnomes! Shhh!"

I shut up and listen, just as he says. And I`ll be damned if I don't hear a purring melody coming from the first floor hallway. The voices seem approaching.  
"Hold on to your pants, Craig" Tweek warns me as the door screeches open and we see a bunch of little singing men run in one after another.

"What the hell is this?" I whisper, peeping at the strange little folk who start going through Tweek's drawers, picking out stuff.  
"They're panties-stealing gnomes." he whispers back. "They nick people's underwear every night at this time."  
"How come I've never seen them?"  
"You've got to be awake this late. I am. I almost never sleep."

Lying under the blanket so close together I feel hot, I need more air. I stick my head out and take a deep needy breath. Jeez, that feels good. The Gnomes hear me, the singing gets cut out - in five seconds there's no one in the room except us. 

"Man, they've taken all my underwear again!" Tweek shouts with a spastic twitch as he checks all his drawers. "JEEZ! WHY DO I HAVE TO TAKE SO MUCH PRESSURE? NNNGGGHHHAAAH!" 

I`m used to his twitches and shaking. Truth be told, I may even like them. ADHD's what sort of makes Tweek special. He can scream and sometimes even curse right in the middle of a class, and no teacher will say a word to him. I don't know if it's OK to like someone more because of their syndrome, or is it kinda weird maybe? But hey... I`m eight year old, what can I possibly know about weird, right?

"How come they steal so many underpants from you?"

"They know that I know about them, so they don't have to be discreet anymore. Now they just come and take all of it."

"Can you at least hide your pants from them?"

"I've tried. The darn Gnomes find my secret stashes most of the time", Tweek sounds defeat, and I feel sorry for him.

"You should get a locker for your drawers."

"There ARE locks, GAAAH! They don't stop the little bastards."

"Man, they pick your drawer locks? You must have some gold underpants or something!" I chuckle. Tweek giggles, too.

There's school in the morning, which means we have to get some sleep. Usually when we do sleepover parties at Tweek's, he takes out inflatable mattresses for the guys and me. But when there are just two of us we sleep on his bed. I get my own blanket, but there's only place for one pillow, so we've got to share his.

"So what, Tweek... You don't really get to wear underpants?" I ask as I`m fighting sleep. I so want to talk to him.

"No, not very often..." he sighs.

And we start snorting and giggling all over again. Somehow I doubt we’re gonna get any sleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna thank you guys for reading my fic, and wow, thanks so much for all the kudos!  
> I hope you'll like this chapter, too.


	3. The cinema incident. Proper condom use.

**Chapter 3. The cinema incident. Proper condom use.**

**[Craig]**

"Man, I can't wait to see the new 'Indiana Jones'!" Tweek's chirping happily on our way to the cinema where we've agreed to meet Clyde and Token. Normally, I meet Clyde first because he lives next door to me, we get Tweek next and then go meet Token who lives not far from the theatre. But last night I stayed at Tweek's again, so now it's just the two of us, strolling idly along the street, discussing the latest Mortal Combat which we've been playing all through the night and where Tweek hasn't had a chance to unlock all the achievements yet. He's totally planning to do it, cause that's exactly the kind of nerd he is.

I`m quite enjoying our time together, and the only thing eating at me is that I've spent all my allowance money again. Well, technically, not all of it, I still have my savings for the next gen Play Station, but I`d rather die than take a cent out of my sacred stash. So today it's Tweek paying for my ticket again, and I feel uncomfortable and awkward about the idea, as I usually do. I mean, it's cool to have a friend pay for you, but it's his allowance, why does he have to spend it on me all the time? Especially when I'm in no condition to pay Tweek back all the funds he's wasted on my entertaining. Anyway, he says he doesn't want me to. He says I'd better get that PS, but still, this whole situation irritates me to say the least.

We're already standing in front of the box office when Clyde finds out that he does't have enough cash.  
"I can't believe I lost it! I know I had a twenty on me!" he's almost crying as he goes through his pockets frantically. But no matter how hard he's trying, nothing can change the truth: he's lost ten bucks somewhere. The ticket costs twelve, which means the guys will need to help him out if he wants to see "Indiana Jones" today. 

"Guys?" Clyde's eyes are big, and I expect him to start crying any second. I get it, ten bucks is a big deal when you're a nine year old kid. I wonder if Tweek and Token have enough cash to add for Clyde's ticket. I look at Tweek, and see how his twitching intensifies as he's doing all the maths in his head. I look at Token, and his expression is almost the same, minus the shaking. Somehow I don't find them eager enough to cash in for Clyde.

"Alright then," I say, tired of the awkward silence and the feeling of greed floating around us in the air. "Let's not go."  
"No way!" both Tweek and Token exclaim, as they dig into their pockets and start counting cash. 

Eventually, it's decided that Tweek's going to add the two bucks for Clyde's ticket, and Token will buy him coke and popcorn. I know that Tweek's also going to buy snacks and drinks for the two of us, and I catch Token's frown when the blonde hands me my coke and my popcorn. I know Token's jealous about Tweek getting more money from his parents than he does. I think it's all because Token's parents don't trust him with the money enough. They always buy him all those posh expensive toys and all kinds of stupid shit, and that's why they probably think that he doesn't need more of it. Tweek's parents do buy him toys occasionally, but not that often. Most of the time he just gets the money and buys whatever he wants. Then again, Tweek's folks are probably the best parents in the world, so Token just needs to suck it up.

What I don't really get is why Tweek has been so heasitant about helping Clyde out with his ticket? He doesn't seem to think twice when it is I who needs cash. I contemplate on the matter during the trailer run, and for some reason I feel so happy, that Tweek treats me so special.

**[Tweek]**

I`m nine and I think the forth grade is going to be the end of me. I don't like this huge new classroom, I don't like Miss Chokesondick, our new homeroom teacher, the one with the lazy eye and disgusting flapping tits. I don't like the curriculum, all of it doesn't seem to have any fucking sense. Why do we have to grow older? Why do we need this stupid crap? Oh, Jeez...

"NNNNGGGGAAAAH! I WANT OUT!" I shriek, in the middle of the Social Studies class bumping my head into the desk as if trying to slam the crazy annoying thoughts out of it. "OH JESUS! IT'S TOO MUCH PRESSURE! I WANT OUT! AAAAH!"

Miss Chokesondick turns her head, but with this scary eye of hers I don't quite get it if she's really looking at me or someone else. Common sense tells me she's totally looking at me now. I mean, who else? Was it not me, screaming rubbish in the middle of the lesson?

"What's wrong, Tweek?" she asks. "Do you need to go to the bathroom? If so, you have to wait for Butters to come back and take the pass from him."

I don't say anything, just stare at her, shaking with my whole body and emanating quiet "nnnnggghhh" sounds.

"Don't mind the spaz, Miss Chokesondick," says Eric Cartman. "We all know the world's gonna be a better place without people like him, but unfortunately our political system is too weak to admit the hard truth: crazy weirdos need to be put down."

I twitch as I listen to Cartman's hate speech, it's nothing new, really. I know that most of the classmates ignore what he says anyway.

"TIMMY?! TIMMY-TIMMY-TIMMY!" Timmy shouts angrily, rather pissed off by Eric's proposition. I throw a quick glance at Craig, he looks angry, too, as he flips Cartman off, but says nothing. I hear Kyle whisper into Cartman's ear, "What the hell, fatass? Tweek's cool, why would you say something like that?"  
"Shut up, you stinky jew," the fat one replies, which is about the same thing he always says to Kyle. He's about to add another insult, but gets cut off by Stan Marsh.  
"You shut up, Cartman," he drops with clear irritation "I`m sick of your intolerant crap already!"  
"Meh-meh-meh-meeeeh", the fatass mocks him, but shuts his hole in the end.

Craig has a name for these boys: he calls them 'the douchebags'. One would think he hates them a lot, but I have a theory that he sometimes feels jealous of the ways how these boys spend their free time and their awesome adventures. Well, I am totally jealous. Personally, I'd love to get more adventure in my life, just like in my favorite cartoons and superhero comic books, but unluckily, paranoia is the best one I'll probably ever have. It's always with me, I can't do anything about it, and provides me with all the adrenaline I can handle. I mean, simply on my way to school I can have from two to five panic attacks, moments of fear unleashed, spreading all over my body, taking complete control of it. No, I don't think I could cope with any kind of adventure, no matter how badly I want to go for a spacetrip or bring down the communist tyrany on Cuba, or become a wild Somalian pirate. 

I don't really hate 'the douchebags' so much as Craig does, but you can't deny that the stuff they do on a daily basis is extraordinary and you've got to have big balls to not chicken out from the challenges these boys get themselves into. Sometimes I think I admire them even. As a gang, of course, not personally. Well, maybe I like Kyle and can sort of tolerate Stan, but I don't want to have anything in common with Cartman, he's just sickening.

Still, none of 'the douchebags' is as cool as Craig, I continue my contemplation, not paying any attention at the lesson at all. I start thinking about what it is that makes him so special for me. First, he's stable and reliable - exactly a kind of friend I need when I freak out about stuff. His nonchalant calm nature helps me to come back to my senses after extremely violent episodes. I sometimes call him at night when the paranoia keeps me awake, and his flat emotionless voice soothes my soul and helps me fall asleep. I try not to take advantage of this opportunity very often, as I don't want to deprive Craig of his sleep. But he always tells me not to hesitate and call him whenever I feel like it. It makes me so happy knowing I've got not just a friend, but a best friend, someone, who I can tell about all my worries and who won't make fun of me.

Which is the second reason why I find Craig so freaking cool: he never rips on me. Ever. He's just a normal kid, of course, and I often see him tease Clyde about being a crybaby, or Token for being rich. But he will never ever say anything that could make me upset. He doesn't even flip me off! It's almost like he's always intentionally super nice to me, but it doesn't look like he has to struggle, it all comes very naturally, and makes me happy.

Another reason why I'm so fascinated by Craig is how much he loves his pet. I like the way he treats him and how meticulously he will take care of him. He cleans the cage regularly, never misses a time. He chooses the feed for Stripe all on his own, because his pet is his responsibility. Yes, that's another great trait of Craig's - being responsible and trustworthy. A trait I don't really possess, because of my syndrome, that makes me super nervous and perplexed whenever I form a commitment of any kind. 

And finally, Craig doesn't mind my twitches. It's like he doesn't even notice them. Token and Clyde are cool with them, too, but they both have this awkward habit of trying to 'wait them out' or something. It happens when one of them talks, and I interrupt their speech with a loud shriek or a sudden strong spasm. They'll shut up for a couple of seconds and look at me, as if asking, "Well, Tweek? Are you done twitching? Can I continue now?". Most of the classmates act so, and I've got used to such attitude already, but I really wish that people would stop paying attention to my syndrome. Just like my parents, for example. No matter how hard I shake and twitch, they act as if it's not hapenning, as if I`m completely normal. I'd never thought I could have a friend who would behave in such a way towards my syndrome until I met Craig. So far he's the only one who doesn't ask me to 'relax' and 'calm down' all the time. No, when I feel like spazzing out, he lets me do it as I please, and when he's telling me a joke or a story, all my twitches go completely unnoticed. I appreciate him being like that to me. 

**[Craig]**

I wait for Tweek at the classroom door, and when he catches up with me, I start walking slowly along the hallway. Tweek isn't in the mood for talking today, I think, the forth grade gets on his nerves, as his twitching and shaking has become a whole lot worse, his shrieks louder. Normally I don't pay attention to his syndrome, as I've got quite used to it already, but it never escapes my eyes, not really. It's a part of Tweek, after all, a very significant one, either, because it can tell a lot about how he's feeling at the moment. I know that when he starts shouting out more often and more loudly, it means something bad is troubling him. I want to ask him, what's going on so badly, but I also know it, that he doesn't like his mental state being treated as something special, so I don't make a big deal out of it, and just keep Tweek company waiting for him to chill a little and share his mind. He always does. He doesn't seem a talkative type with other people around, but when we're alone, Tweek's a freaking chatterbox. I know he's gonna open up sooner or later, and I'll be there for him to talk. 

Meanwhile, we need to think about something cool to occupy ourselves with at the weekend.  
"Sup gang?" I ask when Token, Clyde, Tweek and I gather at the school yard waiting for the bus. "Got plans for the evening?"

Token shrugs, Clyde suggests we go sledging, and I like this idea a lot, but Tweek shakes and goes into violent spasms as he shouts, "NNNOOO! AAARGH! TOO DANGEROUS! JESUS, I`M GONNA FALL AND BREAK MY SPINE!"

"Well, I can't argue with that, Tweek", I chuckle trying to ease the situation a little. "But you can at least be brave for me, right? You don't want us both spending the whole weekend hidden under the desk in your room, door locked and windows blinded, do you?"

"Craig, can I talk to you real quick?" Token insists, dragging me away by my jacket sleeve. Reluctantly, I follow him back to the playground where neither Tweek, nor Clyde can hear us. My eyes are still locked on Tweek, as I watch him shake even more vigorously. He probably thinks me and Token are going to come up with some viscious scheme to murder him. Even if he does, I don't blame him: that's just how his challenged mind works, he can't really help it. Jeez, having paranoia's totally not cool. 

Token waves his hand in front of me so as to get me look at him.  
"Did you even hear what I just said?" he asks angrily.  
"Er, no, sorry, man, I got distracted. What was it again?"  
"I said, Clyde and I are starting to think you're avoiding us."  
"What? Why?"  
"Cause you spend every single minute of your free time with Tweek. And you do whatever Tweek wants to do. If he doesn't feel like hanging out with us, neither do you. What's the problem, man? Does Tweek hate us or something?"  
"Don't be a fucking jerk," I say as I immediately flip Token off. "He helped Clyde out at the movies yesterday, and he doesn't even expect him to return the money, unlike one certain rich kid I know."

For some reason Token's words piss me off big time. I don't have a proper way of demonstrating my emotion (I can't really punch my friend in the face after all), so I just stand there, hands in my pockets, looking him in the eyes and saying nothing more.

"Oh, come on!" he says, "Tweek's paying for you all the freaking time! For all I know, he can still hate Clyde and I."

"He does not," I retort, my voice flat and I'm sure I sound bored on the outside, but really I'm just very angry. I don't even know what I'm angry about. I suppress another urge to punch Token for what he's saying, but I don't really know why is is that his words got to me so bad.

"Anyway," he says. "Ever since we started hanging out with Tweek, you've changed. Look, we just want to be your buddies, like old times, that's it. You don't really hate us, Craig?"

"I don't," I reply. I feel stupid.

Time passes, and we put this little argument behind, but ever since it happened, I often find myself counting time spent with Tweek, comparing it to how much I hang out with Token and Clyde. Before Black pointed it out to me, I never really registered just how long I stay together with my best friend. I still think of Tweek as my BFF, though I never say it out loud. Not to him, not to anyone. I don't really know why, but I feel embarassed by admitting that Tweek's so special to me. It's like... it's not supposed to be this way, friends should be teasing each other, do stupid things and laugh at each other's jokes. But what I feel when Tweek is around is somewhat different. I don't like mocking him, and I generally hate seing him unhappy. I like cheering him up when he's down, and I always want to impress him somehow, by bringing over a new limited Terrance and Philip poster, or by discovering a video game that he doesn't have. Impressing Tweek isn't a difficult job to do, as he's naturally curious and would listen to or play anything, but it's the whole process of finding stuff that makes me feel strangely agitated, but happy. I like seing Tweek smile. And for some reason I also feel a little ashamed of it. It appears to me, that I`m doing or feeling something odd. Like I`m not supposed to think so much about how Tweek would feel or anticipate our time in the movies, because I know just how bad he wanted to see the film and how happy he would surely be...

And the more I find myself clinging to Tweek, the more it bothers me that I want his company every day no matter what. He's my best friend, I tell myself. But the fact that I can only say it to myself, not out loud, is another stupid reason why I feel weird. I don't want to feel weird. I want my buddies on good terms with each other, and I want to show Tweek my new guinea pig, Mr. Puff real soon. 

I sigh, looking out of the classroom window, as Mr. Mackey's trying to educate us on the topic of female anatomy. I`m not paying attention. Instead, I'm thinking about the weekend ahead and what I`m going to do once the classes are over. No matter what's happening around, my plans for the weekend always include Tweek. 

**[Tweek]**

When I thought the school can't get any crazier, the teachers suddenly get all obsessed with sex ed. It's clear that Mr. Mackey doesn't know shit about sex and stuff, his lessons are boring, the anatomical charts - downright scary and so gross, that I`m now pretty sure I`m not gonna touch any girl. Ever. 

I don't know what Miss Chokesondick has been telling the girls, but they flee at our first sight as though we, boys, have transformed into some kind of monsters. The girls' behaviour triggers my paranoia, and horrible thoughts start crawling into my head. What if we are monsters and only the girls can see our true faces? Oh my god, what if we're undead?! Shit! I can't deal with the pressure.

Turns out, we aren't monsters, after all. But that's not a relief, the situation gets darker, once the girls say we're all infected. Christ! INFECTED?! Jeez, it's just TOO MUCH PRESSURE AND I CAN'T COPE! My episodes happen more often now, and I think I might be scaring Craig off. He still spends a lot of time with me, but something's bothering him when we are together. Little by little I see him distance from me, and it feels bad. Like really-really bad. If I were a poet, I'd use some really cool and complex word to describe this gnawing pain in my chest, but I`m just a nine year old kid, my vocabulary isn't so rich, but the pain is there, and it gets worse every time when I see Craig brooding, and I suspect it is me who is to blame. And it's killing me: I wish I could be calmer and behave in a more respectful manner. But I can't help who I am, a spazzy twitchy paranoid freak who can't get his shit together. May be there's only so much of my syndrome that Craig can deal with, may be I`m beginning to annoy him with my spasms and shrieks and seizures. I wish I could talk to him about it, but the paranoia doesn't let me. What if he tells me he doesn't want to see me anymore? What if we can't be best friends after all? I`m sure I`m gonna die if I hear him say something like that. Which is why I prefer to stay silent, or get myself distracted by the video games and movies Craig brings to my place. 

Time comes when I can't hold it anymore. We're in my room, watching last year's "Terrance and Philip" Christmas special when it comes: a full-on panic attack. I don't just shake, I get violent seizures, and bump my head against the wall.

I startle Craig, and now he's looking at me with a weird expression. I don't know if he's more worried about me, or just pissed? I can't control my syndrome, I`m being paranoid as shit... Here it comes, here it fucking comes...

"NNNNGGGAAAAH! AAAAARGH! YOU THINKING OF MURDERING ME, CRAIG?"

I jump away from the couch where we'd been sitting and crawl under my desk. He doesn't follow me, his look is curious and I think I've scared him. Is he gonna punch me now? Attack, he's totally gonna attack me now. Oh, shit! Shit!

"DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!" I yell, when Craig moves his hand in my direction. He freezes, frowning, his eyes locked on me. I`m trying to decipher what his expression means and whether or not he's going to murder me violently. My breathing is fast and heavy, my whole body's shaking, I twitch and I can't contain the episode. I think about school, about mortal infections and deseases, and... OH MY GOD, WHY DO THEY HAVE TO TELL US THOSE SCARY THINGS?! 

"WE'RE ALL DEAD! WE'RE ALL DEAD!" I scream, covering my head with my arms.

"What are you talking about?" Craig asks, and the sound of his chill emotionless voice is soothing, almost sweet. Maybe, he isn't going to murder me violently.

"INFECTIONS, MAN! WHAT IF WE'RE ALL GOT THEM?! JEEEEEEZ! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!"

"Come on," he's speaking in his usual nonchalant manner, "you don't really believe what they say at school, do you? If we were infected, our parents would be freaking out already... Anyways... I talked to the the fatass and apparently, even if we do have them infections, they're only deadly to girls."

"You sure?" I ask him, chilling down a little. Come to think of it, this totally makes sense. I remember Kyle saying something about girls' infections that they can give us. Maybe that's how it works. Maybe I just need to make sure not to touch any of the girls and I`ll be alright?

**[Craig]**

I want to hug Tweek. Like, a lot.

I want to do it right now, give him a good tight hug. He's squatting under his desk across the room from me and looks like he needs it. I wanted to get closer to him, but he didn't let me. So I sit on the couch, looking at him twitch and shake, and trying not to freak out by how bad this urge to hug him is. 

I don't have the balls to do it. I mean, isn't it gay to hug another boy? I know that Tweek needs it right now, but what if it's gonna change me? What if after I've hugged him, I`m going to be different for the rest of my life? What if this is exactly how you become a fag? I don't want Tweek to think I`m one.

I don't move from my place, just trying to talk to him, as calmly as I can to help ease his episode. My tactic seems working, and little by little he comes to his senses, his twitches grow weaker and his breathing calms down. I hope now he doesn't think I`m going to kill him or something.

I`m happy Tweek's panic attack is over, but I think I might be having one, too, right now, cause of the mental image of me hugging him. It's still there, as if engrained in my brain. The thought makes me shiver, my palms get all sweaty and I know I`m never going to do it, but I can't stop thinking about hugging Tweek. I don't think he already needs it so bad now, the moment's lost, which means that it's only me... I want to hold my best friend, and it's not OK. It's a weird idea, it's gonna look so damn gay if I hug him now. I don't want him to think I`m a whiny little fag. Never.

"Tweek?" I hear my voice shaking.

"What?" he replies from under his desk, looking all better and more cheerful, and not as pale anymore.

"Can I leave now?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading my work and for all the kudos :) You are wonderful.  
> I know this chapter might seem weird, I mean, they're only 9, but I do believe that kids are quite capable of falling in love and sometimes feelings get mixed, and when you are queer, especially if you're bi (and this is how I see Craig) the world can get so very confusing. Especially if your parents are homophobic.  
> I also want to stress out that I do not sexualise these early feelings, I'm just remembering what it felt like falling in love as a kid and trying to bring in a reflection of those feelings.  
> Anyway, thank you all for reading :)


	4. Douchebags and roses

**Chapter 4. Douchebags and roses.**

**[Tweek]**

Craig absolutely fucking hates me now. I`m sure it's because of my last episode. I must've scared him off pretty bad. I know I`m a weirdo, but what can I do about it? I feel so ashamed about that time, so I start avoiding my best friend, and well... I`m also pretty mad at him myself for ditching me like he did, when all I needed was his friendly support and attention.

That's why I decide to take part in the reality show which 'the douchebags' are having to choose their new friend. It's strange, really, how lots of kids will say they don't like the notorious troublemakers, but here they are. Here's Clyde and here's Token, and, to my surprise, Craig also joins the contest. I guess I was always right about his hate for them being one hundred per cent pretend. 

The competition can actually be called "Who can kiss our asses best", and most of the guys are trying to impress 'the douchebags'. But not me, cause it's just too much pressure, so I`m just being my-loony-twitchy-paranoid-self. Which happens to work somehow and 'the douchebags' keep giving me the roses after every round of the contest. I gotta say it looks pretty gay. I wonder what Craig is thinking. I mean, considering all the scary crap his dad has put into his head about being gay he must surely be freaking out right now, right?

I haven't talked to him much lately, being still pissed, but we sometimes hang out with Clyde, Token and Jason. We go sledging tonight after the contest, but then Clyde has to leave early, so Craig and I end up walking home together, and that's the first time I've spoken to him this week. To be exact, it's mostly him talking and me simply nodding or humming in response, which is rare. I just don't feel like communicating at the moment, although I`m not really stressed out right now, just down, I guess.

"What do you think was the coolest ride in the amusement park yesterday?" he asks, as we're walking past Clyde's house.  
"I don't really like amusement park", I shrug and twitch. "There's too much pressure."  
"Which was the worst one then?"  
"The scary house. NNNGAAAH!" I nervously shiver at the memory of it.  
Craig sighs.  
"I didn't go on that ride," he says. "I was all out of cash by the time we got to it."  
Oh, right. "Did you have to open up your sacred stash to afford the park?" I ask him as I stop right in front of his house.  
"Well, yeah..." He averts his eyes. I know why. He must be feeling ashamed. Well, he should be: he had no problem with me paying for his cinema tickets not so long ago, but once 'the douchebags' organize a trip to the amusement park, his savings don't seem to be that sacred any longer. This kind of attitude kinda sucks. Can it be that he was only hanging out with me because of the money? What if he's decided that it's not worth it, if he has to put up with my spazzy outbursts? Must be it, I think, and it's so fucking painful that I can't stand Craig by my side anymore. Well, alright, if he doesn't want to accept me for who I am, we don't have to be best buddies. 

I start walking faster, leaving him behind, but Craig catches up with me.  
"Tweek! Wait!" he calls. I don't want to talk to him, but he grabs my arm and makes me turn around. I shake his hand off.  
"Sorry," he drops.  
"What?" I frown and twitch at the same time, feeling this weird bitter feeling spreading over my chest. I feel used, betrayed, abandoned.  
"Are you mad at me or something?" he asks. "Is it about 'the douchebags'?"

No, I think, it's about you ditching me in the middle of a goddamn episode, when I needed you so.

"What about them?"

I turn around and start walking again. Craig must have decided to follow me to my house. I guess I`m not gonna get rid of him tonight. I sigh. I twitch.  
"Well, I mean, you know how I've always said I hated them and now I'm taking part in their stupid competition..."  
"Yeah, that's pretty inconsistent of you."  
"So... Are you mad at me because of that?"  
"I`m not mad at you." That's a lie, but I decide not to disclose my true feelings. I know it'd probably be more fair if I just told him what I feel so bitter about, but I just can't make myself utter the words "You used me." Sounds so lame, so cliche`, I'd just die if I spoke them out loud. Yet it's exactly how I`m feeling right now, and I know I can't do anything about it, just wait for the emotions to die down. I need to get home as fast as I can, have some coffee, and then maybe it'll get better.

Craig doesn't seem to have believed me, but he doen't say anything, just walks me home silently.  
"See you at Cartman's, I guess" he sighs, watching me walk all the way up to the front porch. I feel shitty leaving him like that, so at the last moment I turn around and wave at him.  
“GAAAH! See you Craig!” I shout, twitching spastically. His face immediately brightens up with a wide friendly smile.  
“See you tomorrow!” he waves back and runs away.

Why did I do it, I keep asking myself, as I come inside longing for a big mug of hot black coffee. I am still mad at him, aren’t I? Well, maybe not that mad… Not after he smiled at me like that… Maybe I was just being paranoid? Maybe he wasn’t so grossed out by my episode after all? Maybe he didn’t hang out with me because of all the entertainment I had to offer for certain amounts of cash? Maybe it was all just in my spazzy head?  
“JESUS! WHY DO I HAVE TO BEAR SO MUCH PRESSURE?! THERE’S JUST TOO MUCH! I WANT OUT!” I scream and bump my head into the wall.

“Welcome back, pumpkin!” I hear mom’s voice from the kitchen, and I hurry there to get my evening fix of coffee.

Fuck Craig, I think, sipping on the hot steamy drink. Fuck the douchebags, fuck their stupid competition. For a moment I`m considering backing out from the game, but this idea, though promising more safety and way less stress, feels too lame. How am I supposed to achieve anything in life if I let paranoia dictate the rules? No, I decide, I`m gonna take my part in the douchebags’ contest until they kick me out. I’ve made up my mind and I won’t back off, even if that means seing Craig every goddamn day, which, I know, will only make me bitter.

“JESUS! WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE SO DAMN HARD?!” I twitch and spill hot coffee over my shirt. 

Fuck Craig.

**[Craig]**

Tweek absolutely fucking hates me. And what's worse, I totally deserve it. I know it was fucking lame to cut him off like that, but I just don’t know what else to do, because I`m still freaking out about that sudden desire to hug him which I had a couple weeks ago. What’s even worse, it didn’t disappear, no, it still lingers somewhere at the back of my brain, reminding about itself ever so often. I feel like shit every time I want to act upon this idea, and every time a little voice in my head (which sounds suspiciously like my dad’s) tells me that I shouldn’t do it, or other kids will see what a little faggot I am and start ripping on me. But I`m not a fag! I`m not! I just want to support my friend, that’s it, right? Is it? Jeez, I don’t know anymore…

I still wanna hang out with Tweek, but he seems so pissed at me, and I guess I don’t have the balls to be myself around him and do what I feel like doing. That is, hug him… Oh, shit! Not again!!!

I know he finds strange me taking part in the douchebag’s game, and I didn’t really understand myself either until I finally got it today: I`m not doing it to try and fit in their stupid quartet! I`m doing the contest, because Tweek is in it, too. So this way I get to see him more often without asking him to spend more time with me. Why is it that I'm ashamed to just approach him and tell him how I feel? Well… I try not to think about it. Like… No, that’s a no-go zone for me.

I am really happy, though, that I got to walk Tweek home tonight and talk to him. Although he still seems to kinda hate me, I hope that maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe he’ll melt a little and I won’t have to explain him why I had to take a break from being his BFF? I still feel like shit, of course, because I know how lame and pathetic my excuses are. Maybe I am a chicken? Maybe I don’t deserve Tweek as my friend?

Next day is a fucking disaster: the douchebags get tired of their competition, so they wrap it up by kicking everyone except Tweek out. I stand there as I watch Cartman hand him the rose. He twitches and shakes looking nervous, but somewhat proud, and I feel anger stirring inside. I really feel like punching something or someone.

I never thought Tweek would actually win. Not because he isn’t cool, but because the douchebags never seemed to like him. After all, they were mean enough to lure us into that fight last year, which is something you wouldn’t do to a person you like, right?  
But here he is, standing tall on the improvised stage holding a red rose in his shaky hands. 

“Alright,” Cartman announces, “we’ve got our fourth friend, now everyone else can go screw themselves! Thanks again for joining our competition and fuck off”.

I show him my middle finger, and take a glance at Tweek. His eyes meet mine, and I don’t like the superior patronizing look he gives me, so I flip him off, too. For the first time in my life. His eyebrows go upwards in surprise, lips quiver, he twitches badly and shrieks.

Goddamn it! Why did I have to do it? I don’t want to look at him anymore. A dark painful feeling is eating my guts from the inside: he doesn’t need me as his BFF. He’s got the douchebags now. Well, fuck you, too, Tweek! I don’t want to be your friend no more! Enjoy your time with fatass and Co., you spaz!

I`m running down the street as fast as I can. I don’t stop at my house, just keep running, because I need it. Because I know if I stop, I’ll probably start crying, and boys don’t cry, only pussies and faggots do. And I`m neither a faggot, not a crybaby. I. Am. Not. Going to cry because Tweek chose the douchebags over me. I`m going to act like I don’t care. Because I`m not supposed to care. Because it doesn’t hurt a bit.

Only it does hurt. It hurts a fucking lot. So much that I can’t run anymore, because I`m sobbing and shaking, and I`m all out of breath. I look around: turns out I ran the whole way to Stark’s pond. There’s no one here, only a bunch of stray dogs, but I still hide behind a tree trunk in case someone goes by and sees me crying like a little whiny chicken. I don’t want to cry, I feel ashamed, but I just can’t help it: the tears won’t stop no matter what. 

So I stay there, curled behind the tree, and I cry so hard and so long that my chest and stomach start hurting badly. But I don’t stop, because it feels like if I do, I’d have to accept the reality: my best friend ditched me, because I was being a dick to him. And it feels like if I keep crying, the world will just freeze and won’t move on, and maybe a miracle can happen, and the douchebags will change their minds?

It doesn’t happen, of course: the world won’t stop spinning just because one little wuss cries his eyes out. Nothing will change.  
Little by little I come to my senses. I`m still curled behind the tree, hugging my knees with my back propped against the trunk. I don’t sob anymore, but my face is fucking freezing because of all the tears. I wipe them off with a sleeve, and get up. Surprisingly, it actually feels all better, and, though I`m still ashamed of being a crying pussy now, I`m also a lot more relaxed, and strangely, don’t seem to care about Tweek and the douchebags anymore. I mean, it still hurts, of course, but now I`m angrier with Tweek than myself, because, let’s face it: he isn’t exactly an innocent little lamb here, with that look he gave me. I don’t feel so sorry for flipping him off now. Hell, the spaz deserved it. 

Fuck Tweek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Thanks for reading and all your kudos and bookmarks.  
> Now, I know that this chapter isn't very positive, but I kind of think their relationship didn't always go so smoothly, even though they still like each other a lot. It was very exciting for me to write this chapter, because I wasn't exactly planning such an emotional twist for them, but somehow the characters took the plot into their own hands and I arrived at this chapter very unexpectedly. I also step away from the fandom stereotype of Craig being completely unemotional and cold. I actually think that there's a lot of going on inside him, he just doesn't know how to show it, and considering the family environment that he grows into, it's not surprising that he's willing to suppress all his feelings, in order to not appear weak.  
> Anyway, please, tell me what you think of this chapter, I`ll be so glad to get your feedback  
> Thanks again for reading :)


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